


Holding Me Up

by slightlyjillian



Category: Lost
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-25
Updated: 2010-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-06 16:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlyjillian/pseuds/slightlyjillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set Post-Island, Jack has to wonder "what now?"  Sawyer has the answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> written in 2005

Prologue:

The problem with being rescued is that in equal proportion to phone calls from your anxious relatives come phone calls from anxious collection agencies. Apparently, one is excused from one's debts as long as one stays dead. If your circumstances change, like showing up alive, then you're fair game for every credit late charge, surmounting cell phone bill and missed car insurance premium.

***

"Do you remember what you told me?" Sawyer asks, his shoulder bent upward at what had to be an uncomfortable angle as he braced himself against the nearest tree along the edges of the beach. Jack wouldn't have been surprised if the tree snapped under the other man's weight. Sawyer's eyes were fixed ahead of them, to the horizon and the distant ships able to approach the island for the first time.

"Which time?" Jack asked, certain that whatever he remembered and what Sawyer wanted him to remember would never quite add up.

"That you considered this place home. That if a rescue boat did show up you'd be the last one on it," Sawyer jawed his words. His other arm lifted reflexively and Jack expected to see Sawyer wipe the sweat from his brow. Instead, Sawyer placed the hand on his hip. The tips of his fingers pressuring into the skin.

"Right," Jack nodded, long and slow. Not remembering really. It sounded more like something Sawyer would have said. Or perhaps Sawyer had coaxed the admission out of Jack once, by the fire as the evening drew out the most timid stars.

"Well," Sawyer drawled the word and turning his head at the same time fixed Jack with a wild stare that relaxed into a resigned humor. "What if the powers that be drag me onto that boat against my will? Are you staying then?"

Jack made a circular nod, neither giving affirmation or denying, he pulled his lips in between his teeth to hide his smile as long as possible. So this was about that. "Sure, Sawyer. You want me to go wherever you're going."

"Yeah." Sawyer pushed off from the tree, his posture became lazy, almost bashful. "It might sound better if I have a doctor testifying for my good behavior. Someone to hold up my good name."

"I don't know if I can do that," Jack chuckled, unable to bite back the smile and took to staring at the ground.

Sawyer bumped Jack's shoulder as they were being escorted onto the Saint Anne. The blond man rolled his eyes and the unfamiliar watcher might not have seen the wry humor behind Sawyer's snarling expression.

"Wait your turn, sir, please," The uniformed kid requested, holding Jack back. Fair skinned. Clean shaven and ironed clothes. The ribbons threaded around the rim of his hat were striking colors. So bright and youthful, that Jack had to shrug off his island-matured old-wise-man resentment. "For everyone's safety, we are escorting the convicts on board first."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "If they were so bad, wouldn't you think we would know it by now? It's been nearly ten months."

The kid's expression did little to hide his disbelief.

"So, what's on television these days?" Jack asked dryly. Kate was being led on board next. A piece of her hair was stuck between her lips, but, with the way her arms were bound behind her, Kate wasn't going to have as easy of time pulling a Houdini. The two dozen survivors were all accounted for and standing about along the shore. Various members of the crew were examining them to tend to any unmet needs. They were strikingly distinguishable like white gulls racing through a flock of grimy sparrows. Jack felt some measure of pride that those who lived were doing well. Let the rescue party be impressed.

His gaze drifted back to the boat. He had two people left to protect. Jack pinched his nose, half to hide himself from the chatterbox escort eagerly describing the weekly broadcasting schedules. Half to hide the choked chuckling.

Who was Jack kidding? If any two people didn't need his protection, they would be Sawyer and Kate. He'd simply have to do his best to keep up with them.

***

"Remember what you told me?" Sawyer's shouting, devil-may-care toothy grin but mostly Jack sees the untamed tongue that Sawyer chases along his teeth.

"Right," Jack nods, blinking back tears of agitation brought about by the wild wind coming in the Mustang's windows. Sawyer is driving far to quickly for the back roads of Colorado, one wrist steering from the top of the wheel. The other elbow balancing against the car door so Sawyer can rest his chin against his fist.

The crazy grin barely diminished. "You do remember? You said that I could pick out where we have dinner. Because if I have to endure one more low-class chain joint my insides are going to rot from malnutrition. We are going to a diner or a bar, if we can find one in this state. Have a slab of meat."

Ah, yes. Jack found Sawyer's charisma contagious, but he really couldn't remember Sawyer expressing any discontent at any of their meals on the road.

Jack had put in a good word for a reformed Kate and a redeemed James Ford, but, in the end, it was a four am barrage of gravel against his window and a breakneck escape in Sawyer's commandeered red Mustang. Untraceable, Sawyer claimed. Jack had found a new identity dropped into his lap. Bill Tucker. The Wild Bill cracks had stopped as immediately as they had begun when Jack threatened to go back to his rented apartment.

Truth be told, Jack couldn't stand the apartment. He barely could stand civilization, but riding free and crazy with Sawyer was almost enough to help Jack forget. Forget that he preferred the danger and yes, the adventure, of the Island. Where he had purpose. Where he had made a difference.

Sawyer would sit quietly on the hood of the car, watching the sun set and smoking slow. Jack kicks at the cement foot of the gas station pump, bent at the waist, watching the spare container filling with extra fuel to help them push farther faster.

"Do you ever get the feeling the stars aren't right?" Sawyer asks. Jack's quite used to the unexpected questions and has learned the proper response. He nods.

"Could be that we're in the wrong hemisphere," Jack starts, but he can tell from the insulted look he's getting that Sawyer preferred the simple nod.

"Something's missing. Like Kate," Sawyer muses.

Jack waits, knowing that nostalgia made one forget that running with Kate was like making an Olympian run a three-legged race tied down to a housewife. Jack knew he wasn't the Olympian, and Sawyer didn't much like being reminded he preferred the home cooked to the celebrity. The moment would settle, and Sawyer would laugh like a country dog. Once, sharp, to end the day.

Something was missing though. It wasn't Kate. It wasn't even the island. It wasn't being a doctor or a crook. Sawyer decided he was missing a bag of beef jerky to hold him over until they made it to the "Got Cheeseburgers" business that according to the hand painted sign promised to appear fifteen miles down the road.

Jack puts on the cap and places the extra gasoline in the trunk. He slaps his hands together watching a small cloud of dust shaking off his limbs and clothing. He's become uncommonly used to being less than perfectly clean. Nonetheless, he's a little concerned for the state of the car. The red shine has definitely been muted.

He hears the engine rev and grind and idle before the motorcyclist finally takes the key from the ignition. Jack identifies the person as a civilian a non-threat and looks away into the sunset.

"Well, brother, I see you're keeping the hair cut short then." The lilting accent folds Jack's memories over and back until one corner in time and space meets the next like one folds bed sheets or towels.

Jack lifts his head up and back as he turns, but catches himself before falling into his nodding routine. Standing as free as an uncaged polar bear, helmet under one arm, hands busy adjusting their gloves, with a paisley bandanna is Desmond.

"Before you start thinking I'm following you or something, I assure you this is a coincidence quite far from the ordinary, but a coincidence nonetheless." Desmond laughed silently with his smile. "Gas prices, I thought they were bad when I was first touring the world. But now," He shakes his head but he's giving Jack a hard long look like a concerned godfather. "What are you doing in the real world these days?"

"Nothing, really," Jack answers truthfully. "So many other people doing something. I thought I'd do... nothing."

Jack thinks that Sawyer would have approved of that answer, Desmond certainly appears to as he takes in his surroundings. Two pump outpost with a shack of a convenience store. Colors primarily orange and red as the sun sets. The Mustang, well traveled. Jack in slightly newer jeans and t-shirt. He still wears the key around his neck. He's gotten used to it.

"And you're traveling with?" Desmond asks while balancing his helmet on the bike to free his hands.

"He's with me." Sawyer slides around to Jack's side, saluting Desmond with the bag of jerky while gnawing on a freed piece.

"Aa yes, Sawyer." Desmond's eyes were still eerily striking seeing through to the truth behind the situation. "Well, you always did have a thing for blondes."

Jack knew he was being teased, feeling Sawyer's arm drop around his shoulder. "We're a regular Bonnie and Clyde," came Sawyer's glib answer. "I'm Clyde."

"So, how did you get off the island?" Jack felt his suspicion crawling around his shoes and tugging at the hem of his jeans.

"Didn't go with you lot, that's for sure," Desmond reflected, his eyes getting lost in the distance of time. "Watched as the fancy boats loaded you up. Too much press and publicity for me."

"Danielle didn't come either, I noticed," Jack added.

"No, Danielle stayed. Holding out hope for Alex." Desmond had become rather amused by the French woman after meeting her. Often going out of his way to set off her traps for a lark. "After you disabled the Dharma program, I went back to my boat. Repaired her and set off like my race around the world had only hit a four year hiccup."

"Damn, I should have went with him." Sawyer waved his hand. "Sounds like it was a mite less troublesome."

Desmond gave a pinched grin. "I'm not as fond of blondes as Jack here."

"Too bad for you," Sawyer replied around a mouthful.

"Where is Kate?" Desmond asked, the question long coming.

"She's a cheerleader, for the Dallas Cowboys. Or she was last she checked in with us. She's still chasing her Pa," Sawyer answered.

"And you're not helping her?" Desmond pulled out a tattered wallet and began rifling through the contents. He'd always been indifferent to Kate, but knew what she meant to the other two men.

"Kate can move faster when she's alone," Jack fielded that question hurriedly. "We'd just hold her up."

"You hold her up?" Desmond grinned, waving the wallet then putting it into his back pocket. "Nothing but receipts. I think I might have to hold up this place in order to move on." He glanced at the glass front windows of the small store.

"Don't bother trying." Sawyer unwrapped himself from around Jack. "All they have is fifteen bucks and a couple dimes from what I paid for this jerky and gas."

"And how do you know that?" Desmond raised an eyebrow.

"I asked him if I could have all his cash, and he told me so," Sawyer smirked. "Then, I told him I'd just take the jerky."

"Sawyer," Jack said, appalled. "We don't need to steal. I have enough..."

"Ah, but see there's the problem," Sawyer tapped the underside of Jack's chin. "This time, I was wanting to buy dinner."

"Boys, boys." Desmond shook his head. Then paused. Shrugged. "Could I?" He pointed a thumb at his bike.

"Of course," Jack said, still feeling prickly that Sawyer was attempting thievery behind his back. He produced a twenty and handed it to Desmond.

"Thank you, brother. See you in another life, yeah?" Desmond saluted with the bill.

"You've got to stop saying that." Jack closed his eyes. "Something unexpected and insane always seems to happen to me in the meantime."

"Insane, perhaps," Desmond said glibly. "Unexpected? Probably not this time."

"Come on, Jack." Sawyer pushed off from where he'd been leaning against the car. "Unless you're inviting this guy to dinner, in which case you are paying, I say it's time for us to be off."

Jack reached for the car door handle. He glanced back at Desmond, the instigator or at least the harbinger of dramatic shifts in his life. First Sarah. Then the Dharma project. Now? Desmond caught him staring and Jack gave him a tight smile and got into the car.

"Bonnie?" Jack's voice sounded exhausted, even to himself.

"You're the pretty one," Sawyer joked, turning the engine and then reached over to turn down the radio before the redneck song got much farther. "See, I've always had this thing for brunettes."

"I seem to remember that Ana Lucia gave you her contact information. So you could report your crimes in her precinct before she had to investigate them," Jack teased. Desmond was right, again. Insane, but something long expected.

Sawyer groaned, "I am not going anywhere near that woman if I can help it. I've learned my lesson."

"Thank you, Ana Lucia," Jack joked, folding his hands as if in prayer.

"She's the one who said if I stuck with you I might learn something." Sawyer let his hand rest on the stick shift. Seeing Desmond had changed the atmosphere of their conversation. Jack could almost smell the salt water breeze.

"Obviously, we still need to work on that," Jack teased. "Holding up a convenience store?"

"Hey, I didn't go through with it," Sawyer said defiantly, putting the car into gear and taking off with a squeal of tires.

***

Jack used the savings his mother had restored to him in order to reconcile what he owed to the world. Then he disentangled himself from his obligations, the cable and phone companies. He cut up the credit cards and made a large cash withdrawal. In the back of his mind, he had wondered what a race around the world would be like. And it appealed to him. But he didn't move. He didn't know what was holding him up, and then Sawyer had launched a fist full of rocks at his window.

And they would travel around the world into another life.


End file.
